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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801617">Fate: dark sigil</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corax8878/pseuds/Corax8878'>Corax8878</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night &amp; Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types, Fate/stay night: Heaven's Feel (Anime 2017), Fate/stay night: Unlimited Blade Works (Anime 2014), fate - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:48:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,471</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801617</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corax8878/pseuds/Corax8878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the year 2005. Since Arthurian times, the holy grail has sporadically manifested in Britain, the center of mage craft in the world. Each time, it has chosen 7 people to seek it out, with the promise that the one to seize it for themselves shall receive whatever they most desire in their hearts. There was no predicting when the grail would manifest, only that when it did so, blood would be shed. Just over two hundred years ago, the holy grail war ritual was created, along with a council of mages, to try and reduce the collateral damage from the battle for the grail. And now the grail has manifested once more. But a dark force manipulating events from behind the scenes will ensure that this grail war will be like no other.....</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue part 1  -  The holy grail war</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>After receiving some extremely helpful feedback and planning out this story better than I did before, I have decided to restart it. If you have read the two chapters I made of the original version, I hope this one is better, and know that events in this version are different from the one I made before, so treat it like a new story, even if many things are similar. If you haven't read the original version, I hope you enjoy this story, I don't have a fixed schedule for uploading chapters, when I have time to write them, I will do so. If any of you have feedback, critical or otherwise, please leave it in the comments, I want to constantly improve my writing so that everyone can enjoy it better.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>The clock tower, London, 1982</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So you're the initiates, eh? Welcome to your orientation. Please, come inside and take a seat."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thomas Crombell strode into the room after the man who seemed to be his teacher, along with the 19 other kids who seemed to be his classmates. He slumped into a seat at the back of the room and sighed impatiently. Although a child in a mage family couldn't attend a school of mage craft until they were 13, as decreed by the council in an effort to avoid children making immature use of their powers, Thomas had been receiving lessons since he could talk. He had always hungered for knowledge, voraciously making his way through the lessons and books his parents made available to him, and rapidly digesting their contents. There had been a limit to what he could learn at home, however, and he had longed to go to a school like the clock tower, which was the absolute best educational institution available to mages worldwide. He had protested with his father, a member of the council of mages, to have the law changed, but when there were 29 other council members discussing the topic, it was difficult for someone with as little influence as his father to sway their opinion. And now, the fateful year had finally come. And his parents had even managed to get him into the clock tower, his dream school. But he knew exactly what this teacher meant by an orientation. it seemed that first he would have to sit through a history lesson he had already heard a countless number of times before. What a joke. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looked around the room. The attitudes of his class mates were varied. Some, like him, looked bored, as though waiting for something more interesting than a mere orientation. Some, like a girl sitting right in front of the teacher, looked excited, clearly having received only a rudimentary education prior to coming here, else they wouldn't be looking forward to what would almost certainly be a basic introduction to mage history. A pair of twins sitting near him, both with the exact same posture and expression, simply looked curious. There was a whole spectrum of other personalities alongside these. And then, of course, there was the teacher himself. A pale man in his mid thirties,  his expression was composed into an unbreakable, utterly serious mask. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Now that you are all seated, we may begin. Let me start by introducing myself. I am Lord David Wilmarth. It is a pleasure to meet you all. I hope that I can help you develop into the potent and talented mages you all have the potential to be."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An excited chattering set up around the room. Even Thomas leaned forwards in his seat, his natural curiosity aroused. He had heard of this man. Lord David Wilmarth. The current head of the Wilmarth family, which had founded the clock tower over two hundred years ago. One of the 4 families who had a place on the council of mages reserved for their head. Why was such an important man teaching this class? He wondered who exactly his fellow students were..... </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Judging by the sudden increase in noise, I assume you have all heard of me. That is good: it seems that your families have been teaching you something, at least. Why your education starts as late as it does is beyond me. But sadly, the council decided that the opinion of a senior teacher at the clock tower, the head of a family responsible for generations of education, was not credible enough for concern." He paused at the silence that followed, as though he himself was surprised by his sudden outburst. The bitterness in his voice had been very apparent. After several seconds, in which Thomas assumed he was composing himself, he continued.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"But at any rate, it is what it is. I apologize to those of you who have heard this all before, but I am required to give all new students an introduction to our history, in case any of them haven't already learned it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thomas groaned internally. He had already known this would happen, of course, but to have it confirmed by someone else made it all the worse.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Mages have existed in this world since the dawn of civilization, and since the collapse of the roman empire, Britain has been the heart of mage craft. Up until the industrial revolution, mage families operated independently, only interfering in each other's business when it suited their interests. But at the beginning of the 19th century, the council of mages was formed, to govern and monitor our society, keep it hidden from ordinary humans, and prevent the abuse of our power. The council of mages is comprised of 30 individuals at any given time. 26 of these are elected, chosen by the council when another member retires. The remaining 4 spaces are reserved for the heads of 4 particular families. The Oswalds,  the record keepers of our history. The Renworths, the founders of our justice system. The Flannagans, the oldest and most powerful mage family of the modern day. And, as you all seem to know, The Wilmarths, the founders of this establishment, the oldest school of mage craft in the world, as well as the location where the council meets. I am the one who currently holds my family's seat."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thomas was distinctly unimpressed. An orientation would be boring enough, but it seemed that this man was also using it as an opportunity to pull rank on them. How dull.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"That is all you really need to know about the council for now. But there is one other aspect of mage history that is essential for you all to know, for reasons that will become apparent, if they aren't already. In fact, it was the reason why the council was created in the first place. The holy grail war."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The man had caught Thomas' attention again. Of course, he had already heard of the holy grail war. In fact, he would be surprised if anyone in this room hadn't. But he never tired of hearing the story again. It was the ultimate desire of every mage to win the holy grail. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"The origins of the holy grail are a mystery even to this day. In fact, it's entire history up until the council was formed is murky. What is certain is that it first manifested in Britain during Arthurian times. Ever since it first manifested, it has appeared sporadically throughout history. Each time it has appeared, it has chosen seven people, both mages and ordinary humans, to seek it out, providing each of them with vast reserves of magical energy to assist them in defeating their rivals, even if they have no natural means of utilizing it. To the person who manages to defeat their six rivals and seize the grail for themselves, a reward of unprecedented value is given. Whatever their greatest desire is, the grail will provide it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The thought alone made Thomas' pulse quicken, his mind filled filled with the possibilities. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Up until the beginning of the 19th century, there were no rules or regulations surrounding the battle for the grail. The church, who have always been a part of both the mundane and extraordinary worlds, attempted to deal with the collateral damage, but there were limits to what they could do. What people did with the mana the grail provided for them was extremely varied. Some used it to summon heroic spirits, famous historical figures of immense power. Some used it to perform powerful rituals that they wouldn't usually be able to do, creating natural disasters or draining the souls of everyone within their general area. In fact, there is a lot of evidence to suggest that both the black death and the great plague were created by people that the grail chose. But whatever they chose to do, the results were almost always disastrous. But this all ended around the same time as the 19th century began."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"The most powerful mage families all came together, and agreed that something had to be done about the grail. Fear of witchcraft and black magic amongst the ordinary humans was rife, and witch hunts were becoming more and more frequent. Mages were at risk of being exposed to the world, and that had to be prevented at all costs. And so the council of mages was founded, by the Flannagans, the Oswalds, the Renworths and the Wilmarths. They forced the other families in line, and created laws that all mages had to follow, to keep their existence a secret. And, of course, they dealt with the dilemma that was the holy grail. Together, they created a ritual to summon the holy grail themselves, rather than waiting for the next time it manifested. They sealed the grail within a sub dimension, and threw away the key. But before they did, they used the grail's power to create a second grail linked to the first one, only this one was very much restricted in what it could do. This grail would continue to choose seven people to battle for it, but it would not grant them incredible mana reserves like the original. Instead, it would utilize an adapted ritual taken from the Oswald's archives to allow each chosen individual to summon a heroic spirit, so that the heroic spirits could battle for the grail on their summoner's behalf, hidden from the rest of the world. Each individual was also granted three magical seals, called command seals, that formed the contract between the summoner and spirit, called the master and servant respectively. Each seal could be used by a master to force their servant to follow a single order, and when all three were used up, the contract between master and servant would end, the servant soon disappearing from the world. These command seals were created to prevent servants from running wild and doing their own thing, reducing the risk of exposure."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"This new grail was called the lesser grail, and the original was called the greater grail. The lesser grail manifests conceptually in our world roughly every fifty years, perhaps a bit more or less. When at least 2 servants are killed, the lesser grail will manifest physically, and when there is only a single servant left, that servant and their master will each receive a wish from the grail. It was necessary to adapt the lesser grail to grant both master and servant a wish, so that the servant would have incentive to fight for their master. Then the grail will vanish from this world, until the next time it manifests. This process is called a holy grail war. A rather grandiose name for a battle between seven individuals, don't you think?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"But at any rate, so far there have been 4 holy grail wars, each one supervised by the church and those council members that aren't chosen as masters. the first took place immediately after the new ritual was created. So far, there have been no winners. Any time someone has come close, they have died before they can receive their wish. The only thing that matches a human being's greed and selfishness is it's envy for those with more than them. And, on that thought provoking note, I conclude your orientation. You now know everything you need to know about our history. Does anyone have any questions?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The only person to raise their hand was the girl at the front. Lord Wilmarth nodded at her. "Yes?" he inquired. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The girl looked puzzled. "I don't understand, sir. If they wanted to avoid further damage being caused by the holy grail, why didn't they destroy it, or seal it away properly? Why create the lesser grail? It can't be possible to completely prevent the participants from causing collateral damage."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thomas smiled to himself. How naïve. The answer was obvious, and sure enough, Lord Wilmarth said exactly what Thomas thought he would.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Because, as I said, the greed of humanity is all consuming. The founders of the council wanted to avoid exposing themselves to the world, but they also wanted the wish for themselves. Whether through the power of serendipity, or by the design of the founders, a member of each of the 4 families I mentioned is almost always chosen as a master by the grail. I myself hope to be chosen when the next grail war comes around. Nearly every mage in the world hopes to be chosen, in fact. I have another thought provoking idea for you to ponder on. For someone to win the grail, they only need to defeat every enemy servant; there is no need to kill other masters. Yet in every grail war so far, nearly all the masters have died. Why do you think that might be?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The girl went silent at that. The answer was, again, obvious. Because killing masters would not only remove their servant's link to the physical world, causing them to fade away without needing to fight them. It would also remove that master as a potential threat, prevent their envy from interfering with the greed of the one that killed them. To fulfill their ambitions, a mage had to be ruthless. This was the first lesson Thomas had been taught by his parents. It was not a lesson he had ever liked. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Judging by your reaction, I assume you understand. In that case, let's move on to your first test. Before we begin the course, we first need to assess your current capabilities....."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a further hour of testing what he already knew, Thomas found himself in the clock tower gardens, eating his lunch and feeling thoroughly disappointed. This couldn't be all the famed clock tower had to offer, could it? He hoped the afternoon's lessons proved more fruitful. He was so wrapped up in his own depressing thoughts that he didn't notice the twins until they were right next to him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Do you mind if we sit here?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thomas jerked back into reality, momentarily confused. Then he processed what had just been said to him, and shrugged. "Sure."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Thank you." It was the other twin who had spoken this time. They both carefully set themselves down next to him, and began eating their own lunch. Thomas marveled at how perfectly in sync they were with each other. They did everything at the exact same pace, with the exact same motions, the exact same expressions; everything about them was identical. He wondered if even their parents could tell which of them was which. After a few minutes of silence, as they finished eating, One of the twins said "A rather disappointing start to the day, wouldn't you agree?" </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"We were hoping for something a bit more interesting." The other twin started speaking the second the first one finished. They even had the same formal, perpetually serious voice. Come to think of it, they still wore the same expression from earlier, in the classroom. Thomas had assumed it was a look of mild curiosity, but it seemed that it was just their default expression. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yeah. I learned everything that we did in that lesson when I was five. It was an utter waste of time."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Wasn't it just?" The twins had smiled at his words, but there was something forced about those smiles, as though expressing emotion didn't come naturally to them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Such a basic level of mage craft should be taught long before coming to a school such as the clock tower."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"such a famous school should focus on more advanced lessons."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Although hopefully this afternoon will prove more engaging for people like us."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yes, our results on the initial test should tell them that we need something more mentally stimulating."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Their strange alternating way of speaking was a little bit hard to follow, but Thomas managed to keep up. And he liked what he was hearing. It would seem that he wasn't the only one here who thought the course so far was dissatisfying. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It's like you read my mi-"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thomas' next sentence was interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing in the tower above. It would seem that lunch had ended. "Well, let's find out now, shall we?" He said with a smile. He rose to his feet, and waited for the twins to do the same; they were slower and more methodical even while doing something as simple as standing up. He turned to lead the way to their next lesson, paused, and turned back to the twins behind him. "I'm Thomas, by the way. Thomas Crombell."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Crombell? I recognize that name."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Your father is on the council of mages, isn't he?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thomas felt a small surge of pride upon hearing that. "Indeed he is."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It's a pleasure to meet you, Thomas Crombell. I'm James. James Oswald."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"And I'm Karius. Karius Oswald."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thomas blinked. "Did you just say Oswald?"</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Prologue part 2 -  Nyarlathotep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>10 years after they first met, Thomas and the Oswald twins have become good friends, and are searching for all the secrets of magic. But all knowledge comes with a price, and the price of what they find could be higher than they possibly imagine.....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry it's been  so long since the last chapter, I've been very busy over the last 2 weeks. But yorokobe shounens! For chapter 2 is here. Let me know what you think in the comments, all feedback is welcome.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>London 1992, the Oswald family archives</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"What do you think about this one?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No, far too primitive, we will learn nothing of value from this."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ok, how about this one?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hmmm. Interesting theory, could potentially have interesting results. But the application of the theory has not been handled well."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"True, true. However, I think you'll like this one."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ah, indeed. You know us so well Thomas. Put it with the others."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thomas walked over to the table where they were placing those works they could learn from, and added the journal in his hand to the growing pile there. It was old, from Elizabethan times, and spoke of summoning rituals for fire elementals, as well as spells that could allow one to efficiently control them. He glanced over to where James and Karius were searching the archives, picking out each individual book and searching it's contents for anything of interest. Ten years ago, while the three of them had been students at the clock tower, Thomas had been in awe of the twins. He had struggled with the concept of members of one of the four great families considering him to be their equal. But over time, he had managed to get past that initial phase of meeting someone of high status, and now he saw them as individuals rather than Oswalds. The Oswald family leaders, in fact. Their father had died of lung cancer when they were sixteen, and their mother had left shortly after, meaning that the responsibility of leadership had fallen to them. It was not a burden they bore lightly. Many of those who didn't know the twins as well as he did thought that they were strangely unaffected by their father's death, due to the lack of emotion they displayed. But Thomas knew better. Although the twins struggled to understand and display emotions due to some strange mental quirk, they were not heartless, and he could tell how deeply the events had affected them, picking up on the subtle signs that others didn't notice. But they had managed to move on with time, and now they handled their duties as family leaders more efficiently than anyone could have expected them to. So efficiently, in fact, that they had plenty of free time to spend pursuing their primary interest with Thomas.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That interest being the accumulation of knowledge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The three of them all shared a powerful thirst for knowledge, always being at the top of their classes and developing into some of the best mages of their generation. But no matter how much they learned, it was never enough. They always wanted to learn more. They wanted no secrets in the world to be veiled from their sight. It was fortunate, then, that James and Karius were the leaders of the family responsible for keeping records of mage history. For two years now, the trio had been searching the archives for any knowledge that caught their interest before mastering that knowledge, and then searching for more. Sometimes they would find several dozen items of interest in just an hour. Sometimes they could search for days and find nothing. But it was a pastime they never grew tired of.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Little did they know that this time, they would learn things no mortal was ever supposed to learn. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Karius was the one who found it. He called out to his brother and his friend, and showed them what he had found. It was a tatty old journal, clearly ancient and lucky to have withstood the test of time. Emblazoned on the cover was a strange symbol they had never seen before, the shape vaguely resembling a mass of tendrils with a single, unblinking eye at the center. "What is that?" Thomas asked as he gazed down at the book. "I don't know. Here, look. It is written in a language I have never seen before." Karius opened the book, revealing pages filled with puzzling images and paragraph after paragraph of writing in this mysterious new language. All of three of them confirmed that they had never seen anything like it before. Their curiosity aroused, they quickly scanned the pages, looking for anything they did recognize. And there it was. On the last three pages, scrawled in the margins, were notes in English. Upon reading them, their interest only grew stronger.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The notes spoke of another world, a realm that ran parallel to their own, the two unable to interact naturally, only through the intervention of those with magic. This realm, the notes said, was filled with new magic and new concepts, obeying laws of reality different to their own. It was filled with powerful beings that were entirely indifferent to the existence of our own world, simply focused on their own concerns. But one of these beings was not like the others. It cared deeply about the beings of our world, and wanted to show them the possibilities that lay beyond their mundane reality. Like Prometheus, it wanted to bring the light of enlightenment to all those that wallowed in the shadows of ignorance. The notes told of a ritual that could be performed to communicate with this being, this enigmatic Nyarlathotep, and through him, all the truths of this world, and the other, could be uncovered. The three looked at each other, utterly serious.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This was exactly the kind of thing that they had hoped to find.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>2 days later</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everything was ready. The preparations had been made. It was time for them to perform the ritual, and verify the supposed truths the notes had spoken of. Perhaps the three should have thought more carefully about what they were doing. After all, they had no idea if the writer of those notes spoke the truth, nor did they know if this ritual would be dangerous. But their avarice was too great. They were too caught up in the possibility of enlightenment to consider the potential consequences. And so they performed the rite. They paced around the magic circle they had drawn on the floor, which now glowed a deep indigo, and chanted phrases in the new language they had learned from the notes. They sprinkled alchemical powders into the lit braziers spaced evenly around the circle as they passed them, causing the flames to flash in various different colors, and each time they completed a full circuit of the circle, they traced their fingers around the symbol they had each drawn on the front of their robe, identical to the one on the diary. After calling out the final phrase of the ritual, they stopped, and waited to see what would happen, almost shaking with anticipation. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The flames in the braziers abruptly grew, bursting up in a flash of motion, and the three of them gazed in wonder. The color of the flames had changed, which was not unusual for a magic ritual. The strange part was that the color was one they had never seen before. Which should have been impossible. Color was related to the visible light spectrum, a law of reality that not even magic could alter. There were only a limited number of colors in existence, and mages had discovered all of them. Yet this impossible color, which contradicted everything they had learnt, continued to exist. But as they gazed in awe at the braziers, they failed to notice the fact that the inside of the circle was beginning to grow darker, gradually approaching midnight black. In fact, their attention was only wrenched away from the flames when the darkness suddenly shifted, revealing a dim yellow glow, which they failed to recognize as an eye.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"<em>So, you have called upon me. If you wanted my attention, you have it. Tell me. Who are you?"</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thomas was lost for words. He tried to speak, but no sound would leave his throat. However, if the twins were equally as shocked as him, they didn't show it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I am Karius Oswald, one of the twin heads of the Oswald family, which is one of the four great mage families in our world."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I am James Oswald, the other head of the Oswald family."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"And this is Thomas Crombell, our closest friend."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Are you the being known as Nyarlathotep?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The entity produced a strange, high pitched sound. It took Thomas a moment to realize it was laughter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"<em>Oh, you are bold. Most show fear or awe when they first speak to me. Not many are so calm."</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I apologize if I have offended you," Karius said stiffly. "But I would greatly appreciate it if you answered my question." The entity laughed again. Thomas found the sound rather unsettling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>"No, no. Quite the contrary, in fact. I like those who are bold.  I am indeed Nyarlathotep. For people so bold to have called upon me, you must have a purpose. I would like to know what that purpose is, if you would not mind telling me."  </em>There was a trace of irony to it's words. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"We found a journal that speaks of you. It says that you desire to bring enlightenment to humanity. Is this true?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>"Ah. So you have found the journal, have you? A loyal follower of mine in your world wrote it long ago, under my instruction. It was to serve as a test, to be one day found by people like you. People who were powerful and bold enough to call upon me. People who desired the enlightenment I offer. For that is what you desire, is it not?"</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At last Thomas found his words. "Yes. Yes, that is what we want."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"<em>Excellent. Then I think this shall be the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship."</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>London 2003, the Crombell family residence</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But Thomas did not think their relationship with Nyarlathotep was fruitful. Yes, they had learned a great deal from it. It had taught them how to translate the mysterious language in the book, and what they had read in those pages was beyond their wildest dreams. It had taught them even more besides this, and new powers were made available to them, vastly increasing their standing in mage society. Thomas had even replaced his father as a council member. However, he had always been suspicious of the being. Although he had wanted the enlightenment it offered, he had also known that no one would offer such knowledge for free. But, up until very recently, it hadn't asked them for anything in return, aside from occasionally wanting to hear about their lives. The entity had revealed that it could see everything in the present, despite not being able to interact with their world directly, and thanks to it also possessing a photographic memory, it knew everything that had ever happened in human history. It should have known more about them than even they themselves knew. And yet it asked them anyway. Why? What did it hope to learn? Thomas didn't know. There was also something about Nyarlathotep that he found disturbing. It always seemed to be somehow mocking them when it spoke, and occasionally, a hint of malice, or sadism, or something else equally nasty, would creep into it's words. The twins, with their strange mental quirk, didn't seem to pick up on this. But Thomas did. And he didn't like it, not one bit. If it wasn't for his selfish desire to learn more, he would have suggested that they break contact with the being immediately. As it was, his suspicions grew ever stronger.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then, just one month ago, Nyarlathotep had requested that they bring it into their world. It said that it could bring enlightenment to all of humanity if it entered their world, that everyone could know the truths that they knew. The twins loved this idea. They fancied themselves as the prophets of this entity, bringing knowledge to all of humanity. It also just so happened that the next holy grail war was due to happen in the next few years, and Nyarlathotep said that they would need a vast reserve of mana like that most coveted of all artifacts to bring him into their reality. But the request had alarmed Thomas. Communicating with it had been unpleasant, and he only put up with it because the knowledge he could learn was worth it. To meet it in the flesh, or whatever alternative to flesh existed in it's reality? The idea terrified him. He had decided that he would learn as much as he could about this being before considering granting it access to the world he called his home. He started by translating certain pages in the journal that Nyarlathotep had said contained nothing of value to them: just ways of utilizing their strange new powers that were less efficient than the methods taught to them directly by the entity. But Thomas had decided to verify this for himself. And what he had found in those pages shocked and repulsed him. If what they said was true, then Nyarlathotep was far from benevolent. However, he wasn't so quick to end the dream that his best friends were so lost in. He attempted to confirm this new revelation by searching for records of a certain cult that was supposedly devoted to the entity. His research was successful. He had searched the Oswald archives alone, this time knowing where what he was looking for should be, and found a book written by a member of this cult. He was reading through it currently, and what it said was exactly the same as what it had said in the original journal, with new and even more disturbing details added in. He found he had reached a point where he didn't want to read anymore. He had seen enough. Grimly, he closed the book, then rose from his desk. He had to meet up with the twins and tell them what he had learned. Warn them not to trust that being. But even as he left, a terrible thought struck his mind. If Nyarlathotep really could see everything in the present, then it surely knew what Thomas was up to. And even if it couldn't stop Thomas from speaking with the twins directly, it could tell them whatever it wanted to in the time it took Thomas to reach them. He had been friends with James and Karius for as long as he could remember. They were almost like family to him. But would they take his word over the bringer of enlightenment they had so much faith in? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He could only wait and see.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>London 2005, the clock tower</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Karius Oswald stood before the assembled council of mages, and the room fell silent immediately, the various ongoing conversations abruptly dying out. For the last month, ever since the holy grail had manifested once more, he had been the only one of the twins to appear in public, James staying within the walls of their estate. There were many rumors surrounding this, adding to the already existing rumors that had started when Thomas Crombell, the twins' childhood friend, had become a wanted fugitive two years ago. The official story was that he had been found guilty of treason against the council, plotting to overthrow them with a group of like-minded criminals, but the truth was clearly much more complicated than that. The most popular rumor was that he was consorting with a mysterious cult dedicated to an evil god, but the veracity of this rumor had yet to be confirmed. What was known was that Thomas' betrayal had been the first event in the twins' lives to noticeably affect them, something which even their father's death hadn't done. They were always rather cold and emotionless, but now their usual polite, formal manner had changed to a grim and serious one. They were also much more distant, usually speaking only in response to others, rarely starting conversations themselves. And now here he was, making an announcement to the council. Those who hadn't heard the news already and hadn't seen his right hand were very curious as to what would drive him to do this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Greetings, my fellow council members. As you all know, my brother and I have held the seat on the council reserved for the Oswald head ever since we were sixteen." Although nobody spoke so much as a whisper, many thoughts were stimulated by these words. It was very unusual for a family as old and powerful as the Oswalds to have siblings. It was even more odd for the family to split their magic crest, the mark containing the power accumulated by that family over generations, between siblings. Splitting the crest was difficult and made the two halves weaker unless they were very close together when they were used, and as a result, siblings were usually either given to another family to inherit their crest, or simply left to contend with the power of their own magic circuits. The fact that their father had not only kept them both, but had also gone through the process of splitting the crest between them shortly before he died, was yet another strange aspect of the twins' lives. Karius continued.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It has been a privilege to serve on the council, and it is a privilege we hope we will continue to enjoy in the future. But it is a privilege we must momentarily give up. For, as you all know, the holy grail has manifested once more, and as soon as every master is chosen and every servant summoned, the fifth holy grail shall commence. And, as some of you will already know, I have been chosen as a master by the grail." He raised his right hand, revealing a red symbol on the back that resembled a three headed snake. Those who hadn't already known this news, now that they had heard it, weren't particularly surprised. A member of each of the four great families had been chosen as a master in every grail war to date, and Karius and James had no other relatives. The only things people had really wondered about were which of them would be chosen as a master, and when. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Since the founding of the council, members who are chosen as masters, and the relatives of those chosen as masters, have had to step down from their duties during a grail war to avoid any bias in the adjudicating of the war. Lord Wilmarth was the first to have to step down, when he was chosen as a master three days ago." As he said this, he gestured at the empty seat where the man he spoke of usually sat. "And I came here today to announce to you all that I shall be the second. So, this is goodbye for now. I shall hopefully see you all again when this grail war ends." And with that, he began to walk towards the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he left the room, he heard the murmuring of conversations beginning to grow, himself the subject of most of them. But he did not care what they had to say. Currently, they wallowed in the darkness of ignorance. And, despite Thomas' betrayal, his mission was unchanged, as was his brother's. It did not matter if the man he had once considered to be his friend opposed them. It did not matter if everyone else in the world opposed them. They would accomplish their goal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nyarlathotep would bring the light of enlightenment to this world. And they would be the ones to herald his arrival. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Quick note about the choice of pronouns for Nyarlathotep. Thomas refers to Nyarlathotep as "it", because he considers it to be an inhuman entity, a monster. The twins refer to Nyarlathotep as "him", because they think of him as a friend of mankind, a messiah of sorts. Hope that clears up any confusion that anyone might have had about that, and hope you enjoyed the chapter, I will make the next one as soon as I can.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Saber</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Flannagans are the oldest and most powerful mage family of the modern day, with connections to those in the highest positions of authority within both the mundane and supernatural worlds. The only heir to the current family leader, Edmund, is a prodigy of outstanding talent, however, it is widely believed that he is too soft to make a good mage, with even his father sharing this opinion. But the grail does not care for such things, and when Edmund is chosen as a master, he and his family must accept that he will be the one fighting for their honor.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>London 2005, the clock tower</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>2 days after Karius Oswald addressed the council</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Twenty two year old Edmund Flannagan swiftly paced through the corridors of the clock tower, heading towards the office where his father worked during the day, dealing with the administrative work of the school. Even as he walked, he gazed in wonder at the red symbol that had appeared on the back of his right hand this morning. It vaguely resembled a Japanese style fan, but split into three distinct sections. The second he saw it, he knew exactly what it was, and immediately set out to inform his father. He could barely contain his excitement. He was going to fight in a holy grail war! It was a privilege every mage dreamed of, the chance to receive a wish from that most coveted of all artifacts. For whatever reason, fate had seen fit to grant him this privilege, and he was not going to waste it. He felt that nothing could break his good mood as he arrived just outside his father's office.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Only for a familiar figure to slip out from the room like a shadow escaping the light of the sun. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hello Edmund", said Karius Oswald, his face composed into an awkward smile, like a snake trying to imitate a person. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Karius." Edmund suppressed a shudder. He had never liked the Oswald twins. He knew it was irrational of him. They had never done anything wrong to him. In fact, they had always been incredibly polite. But there was something about them that just made his skin crawl. Maybe it was the lack of emotion they showed, their expressions always being either completely devoid of feeling, or those awkward, reptilian facsimiles. Or maybe it was the fact that they were perfectly synchronized in everything they did, seeming to instinctively know what the other was about to do or say at any given time. Maybe it was a bit of both, or something else he couldn't put his finger on. But whatever it was, it gave him the creeps. He had thought that James' mysterious absence from public would make this irrational feeling fade, but if anything, it only intensified it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I was just discussing current affairs with Andrew. As I had to temporarily step down from my spot on the council, I am curious about what has been occurring in my absence. But what are you doing at the clock tower today, Edmund?" Karius' words dragged him back to the here and now. "You finished your education here two years ago. It would seem that you are going to visit your father. Do you mind me asking why? If you don't want to talk about it, that is not an issue. I am simply curious."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Edmund shrugged. As Karius was a master, he was going to find out at some point that Edmund would be one of his rivals, so there was no use in trying to withhold the truth from him. It suddenly occurred to him that he was going to have to fight Karius if he wanted to win the grail war. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He didn't want to think about that right now. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I have been chosen as a master by the grail. I came to inform my father." He showed Karius his right hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Was it just his imagination, or did a hint of regret appear in Karius' smile? No, he had to be imagining it. He could never get a read on the twins.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ah, wonderful. Then it would seem that we will be opponents in the battle to come. Best of luck to you, Edmund. Please, do not let me keep you any longer." He stepped to one side and gestured towards the office door. "Go and inform your father. I'm sure he will be ever so pleased."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So, the grail has chosen you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His father, Lord Andrew Reginald Flannagan, did not seem pleased. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yes father", said Edmund from the opposite side of the desk, his head bowed. He had been expecting this response, although he had also hoped that his expectations were wrong. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His father sighed. "As you know, Edmund, I am an honest man, so I will be frank with you. I would much rather it were one of your cousins. You have incredible talent as a mage, but you lack the correct mindset. You are too compassionate, and in a battle such as this, that is a fatal weakness. Let us review some of your opponents. Karius Oswald, widely regarded as one of the greatest mages of his generation, a prodigy similar to you, but without your moral hindrances. Lord David Wilmarth, the man who taught you and Karius Oswald, in addition to countless other mages. He knows all of his students' strengths and  weaknesses, his own abilities are of considerable note, and he is utterly ruthless when it comes to his ambition. I have also heard rumors that Alicia Renworth has been chosen by the grail, although I have yet to confirm this myself. I'm sure you know her well enough that you don't me to explain anything there."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Edmund nodded. Alicia had been in the same class as him at the clock tower. She was a quiet and serious person, obsessed with the practical application of magic in combat, and she would not hesitate to harm others if she needed to. Edmund winced as he remembered the time she had broken his arm during a sparring session. She had made it very clear to him that she could have done a lot worse. Would she be willing to kill him if he stood in her way? Most likely. No, almost certainly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"All of these are people who will not hesitate to kill you if they have the chance. What I am trying to say, Edmund, is that you must get rid of your naïve attitude. You must be equally as ruthless as them if you wish to survive the battle to come. For better or worse, you have been chosen to represent our family in this grail war. Do not disappoint me. Prove my concerns wrong, and win this grail war, for the honor of the Flannagans."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Edmund clenched his fists under the desk. "I will not fail you father," he said. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"See to it that you don't. I will order the rest of the family to leave our estate here in London so it can serve as your base of operations. They can stay in one of our other homes. Here, take this." His father picked up a black briefcase from under the desk, and slid it across to Edmund. "It contains all the catalysts our family has gathered over the years. Pick one, and use it to summon your servant. It is up to you which heroic spirit you wish to fight for you, but make sure it is a strong one. You will need a powerful servant to win this."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Edmund picked up the briefcase, before rising from his seat and bowing. "Thank you father. I will make you proud."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>One day later, the Flannagan estate</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Edmund finished the preparations for the summoning ritual, he looked around the basement nostalgically. Everything was so familiar, completely unchanged since his childhood. He remembered the times he had come down here to study the various tomes of magic on the bookshelf resting against the wall, or simply to gaze in awe at the summoning circle in the center of the cold, stone floor. He reminisced over the stories his father had told him about the previous Flannagan masters, and the times they had summoned their own servants using this very circle. Now, it was his turn. He had set up a candle on each of the five points of the star etched within the circle. He had made connections with the ley lines in the area using chalk marks that he had infused with his own power. Everything was ready. It was time to begin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He reached into his pocket and produced the small chunk of stone that lay there, glancing at it as it lay in the palm of his hand. It didn't look like anything special, perhaps a part of a fresco or a sculpture, but he knew better. It was, in reality, a piece of the famed round table, where the legendary king Arthur had met with his brave and noble knights. Edmund had always loved the tales of king Arthur and his knights. But amongst those knights, there was one that he admired above all the others. The knight said to be the bravest, strongest and most courageous of them all. A knight that had come into conflict with his lord in order to follow his heart. Most saw this latter part of the tale as the tragic downfall of that knight, but it only made Edmund respect him more. The fact that he was even willing to go against his king in order to do what he thought was right, rescuing the woman that loved him from her unhappy marriage: it was an act of bravery that Edmund looked up to. Yes, where others had lost faith in him, Edmund had only ever admired this knight. And now was his chance to meet him in person. To fight by his side. It was a moment that he had dreamed of for a long time, and now that dream was at last becoming a reality. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He placed the chunk of stone in the center of the summoning circle, and began to pace around the outside. As he walked, he produced a tiny flame at the tip of his index finger, and lit each candle in turn. Then he began to chant:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Fill, fill, fill, fil, fill. Let each be be turned over five times, simply breaking asunder the fulfilled time. Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let my great master be the ancestor. Raise a wall, against the wind that shall fall. Close the four cardinal gates. Come out from the crown. Rotate the three branched road reaching the kingdom. I shall declare here. Your body shall serve under me. My fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the holy grail. If you will submit to this will and this reason, then answer! An oath shall be sworn here! I shall attain all virtues of all of heaven. I shall have dominion over all evils of all of hell! From the seventh heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the balance!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A howling wind picked up in the room, throwing Edmund back against the wall. He shielded his face as a brilliant flash of light, too bright to look at, burst into being in the center of the circle. And then all was still. The light faded as quickly as it had appeared. The wind died down. An eerie silence filled the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cautiously, Edmund uncovered his eyes. There, kneeling in the center of the circle, was a knight. He was clad in a segmented suit of armor that was a rich dark purple color, but with the helmet removed, revealing a handsome face framed by short hair of the same color as the armor. He clutched the hilt of a sword that was thrust blade down into the ground, and Edmund had never seen such a beautiful weapon before. It had a masterfully crafted blade of black and dark silver, with runes engraved just above the perfectly shaped curve of the cross guard. Just looking at it took his breath away. He could only imagine what it would be like to actually wield such a weapon. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The knight rose to his feet and sheathed his sword. He gazed at Edmund with sorrowful eyes, and spoke in a deep, yet gentle voice. "So, I have been summoned for a grail war, have I? Are you by any chance my master?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Edmund attempted to reply, but his words caught in his throat. Composing himself, he said in a shaky voice "Yes, I am the one that summoned you. Are you Sir Lancelot, the greatest of the knights of the round table?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The knight let out a laugh that spoke not of amusement, but of sadness. "The greatest? Is that how they remember me?" His face darkened. "I am unworthy of such a title. But regardless, you are correct about my identity". He knelt once more, clasping one arm to his chest in a warrior's salute. "Sir Lancelot, at your service. If a wretch such as myself can be of much service to you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Edmund was stunned at the way the knight spoke, and the way he described himself only shocked him all the more. "Unworthy? Wretch? B-But you're a hero! How can you possibly speak of yourself like that?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lancelot gave another bitter laugh as he stood once more. "A hero? Maybe once I was. But not anymore. Not after I betrayed my king, and damned their kingdom in the process, all to fulfill my own selfish desires."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Edmund felt sick. Here he was, finally speaking to the hero he admired so greatly, and this was what he was hearing? "But Guinevere didn't really love Arthur, did she? You only rescued her from a marriage that she was unhappy in, right?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lancelot's expression briefly shifted to one of anger, only to become sad once more. He sighed. "If only things were that simple. I would prefer if you didn't speak of events that you do not understand. My act of betrayal was so much more complicated than you believe it to be. But the undeniable fact of the matter is that I swore an oath of loyalty to my king. I swore to be chivalrous and just, to follow my king until the bitter end, to battle any threats to their reign and their kingdom . I failed to do any of these things. I am unworthy to call myself a knight."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Edmund tried to say something reassuring, but the words wouldn't come to him. He realized that Lancelot was right. All of his knowledge of the knight stemmed from legends and stories. He knew nothing about who he really was, or any of the things he had really done. Now that he could meet his hero face to face, he was able to fully realize that the man was a complete stranger to him. He had thought he had known him, but in reality, he hadn't. Not at all. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I-I'm sorry" He stuttered. "You're right. I-"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You have no reason to apologize," Lancelot interrupted him. His expression softened. "I am the one who should be apologizing. You do not need to worry about my personal issues. You are my master, and I am your servant. It is my duty to serve as your sword, and that I shall do. This is my purpose here: nothing else matters."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I-I can't accept that. How can you expect me to ju-"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Please, enough." The knight looked pained. "Do not worry about me. Like I said, my problems are mine to bear, not yours. I would appreciate it if you focused on your goal, and then I can help you to achieve it. That way, we can both fulfill our duties. After all, it is your goal to win the holy grail, is it not?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Edmund wanted to continue pushing the point, but he could tell Lancelot was unwilling to continue with that discussion, so he accepted the change in subject. "Yes. I am going to win this grail war. Will you help me do that?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You are my master. I accepted your summons, so now I shall do as you command. Tell me, what is your name, master?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Edmund. Edmund Flannagan."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It is a pleasure to meet you, Edmund Flannagan. Now then, let us win this grail war."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Our first challenger approaches, and it is none other than the knight of netorare himself, Sir Lancelot! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, as always, please leave any feedback in the comments, I really appreciate it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Lancer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alicia Renworth is chosen to represent her family in the latest holy grail war. A dedicated mage hunter, all she needs to do is summon her servant, and then she will be ready to chase down her prey.....</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>The forest of dean, England, the same day that Lancelot was summoned</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*Snap*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The deer, slightly startled by the soft sound, raised its head abruptly. It gazed out into the forest around it for a few moments, and then, satisfied that there was nothing out there, returned to its grazing. At least, it tried to return to it's grazing. For at the exact moment it lowered its head once more, an arrow formed of pure white light shot down from above, piercing straight through it's throat. It didn't even have time to register the fact that it had been hit. One moment it was in perfect health, the next it had slumped down to the ground, its life bleeding out onto the grass around it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>With the grace and stealth of a tiger, Alicia Renworth dropped down from the tree she had been perched on, landing with only the gentlest of thuds. She regarded the corpse coldly, as the arrow dissipated before her eyes, breaking into small particles of light, which themselves faded mere seconds later. It had been a clean kill, but she needed to be more careful. The deer had heard her, even though it had not recognized what the sound was. There should be no indication to her prey that she was hunting them, none whatsoever. It wasn't good enough to have the stealth of a great cat. She needed to be as silent as a ghost. Silently cursing her mistake, she studied the bow in her hand. It was a flawless item, a curved length of wood as black as the night itself. It was a mystic code, an item with innate magical properties, gifted to her by her grandfather. Rather than using conventional ammunition, it gathered magical energy in the form of light when the bow string was drawn, shaping that energy into an arrow, before launching it towards her prey when the string was released. It was a weapon designed to be perfect at causing death, as long as it was in the hands of a skilled hunter. She needed to emulate the hunter's craft perfectly if she was to consider herself worthy of wielding it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Renworth family were known in mage society as a whole for being the founders of their justice system. What less realized was that they were also the first ones to carry out sentence on criminals. They were, at their roots, a family of mage hunters. Of course, now mages from any family could become mage hunters. But even to this day, the best were still of Renworth stock. Alicia was one of those. She had become a hunter as soon as she was old enough, and she had been preparing to become one for her whole life. Outside of the Renworth family, she was considered to be a prodigy. Within the family, that was merely the standard that was expected. And now here she was, a proud heir of the Renworths, and she couldn't even avoid startling a....</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She flinched suddenly. Her finely honed instincts were alert. There was a presence behind her. Right behind her, in fact. Almost close enough to touch her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She lashed out with her foot, then leaped forwards, spinning around and simultaneously preparing an arrow in her bow. She locked eyes with the individual that had been reaching out to tap her shoulder. And although she did not release her arrow, she did not relax in the slightest. Scowling, she demanded "What are you doing, Nick?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nicholas Renworth grinned at his sister. "Hey, sis. How's it going?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She tightened her grip on the bowstring, drawing it back slightly. "You didn't answer my question."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Easy, easy. I was just testing your reaction speed. You're fast, but not quite fast enough. A second slower, and I could have killed you if I wanted to."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Although he said it as a joke, Alicia knew it was true. Nick was a prodigy even by the harsh standards of the Renworth family. she lowered her bow. "Right. I'll see what I can do about that."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You do that. It may seem unnecessarily harsh, but in our field of work, the slightest mistake can get you killed. Not everyone gets off as lucky as I did." He absentmindedly touched the black patch that covered his right eye socket. Of course, magic could have healed the injury, but he kept it as a permanent reminder of the time he slipped up, so that he would remember never to repeat the same mistake. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"True. But something tells me you didn't come all the way out here just to test my reaction speed. So Why are you here?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nick's expression became more serious. "We've found him. Thomas Crombell."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That got Alicia's attention. "What, the guy who conspired to take down the council? Where is he?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Los Angeles, in the United States. Makes sense that he would go somewhere where mages have next to no influence to escape us.  I'm heading out there today to take him down. They found him yesterday, but they wanted the best guy we have to go after him. After all, the last few mage hunters and church executioners who went after him were never heard from again."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh? And you fancy yourself as the best guy we have, do you?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nick's smile returned. "Hey, their words, not mine. But since I'll be gone for a couple of days, I thought it would be best to check up on you before I go. Everything all set for the holy grail war? You summoned a good servant?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She glanced at the command seals on her hand. They were shaped like a deer's head, two being the antlers and one being the main head. "Not yet, but I have the right catalyst. I'll be summoning him tonight."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Excellent. Mind me asking who it will be?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Does the name Diarmuid Ua Duibhne ring a bell?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nick looked confused. "The knight of Fianna? He's a powerful warrior, for sure. But, well, you're female. Remember the whole thing about his love spot?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anger flashed in Alicia's eyes. "Are you saying that a simple charm will be enough to overcome me? You really think I'm that weak?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Woah, woah, I didn't say that. But why take the risk? There are plenty of other servants with power equal to his, or even greater. Why not summon one of those instead?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She sighed heavily. "Because catalysts aren't exactly easy to come by, unless you're in a family with a big interest in history. Diarmuid is the best servant I've been able to find a catalyst for, and I don't want to waste time on a fruitless search for another one. I need to prepare as much as possible before the war begins. It's always been the way of the Renworths to rely on their own abilities to achieve victory, hasn't it? If I can kill the other masters, it doesn't matter how good their servants are; they'll fade from existence as soon as their mana supply is cut off. All I need my servant to do is obey my orders and keep the other servants busy while I kill their masters. A powerful and chivalrous knight, eager to prove his loyalty after being bewitched into betraying his lord, sounds like he'll fulfill that role perfectly. Don't you agree?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I guess that makes sense. Just... be careful."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She gave him a crooked smile. "I should be saying that to you, when your prey is as dangerous as he is. Happy hunting."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He returned the smile, although his eyes did betray his concern. It irritated Alicia, that Nick was worried about her. She was a hunter getting ready to do battle with a bunch of overprivileged academics; she would be fine. He, on the other hand, would be fighting a dangerous, supposedly unhinged fugitive who was famous for his magical talent and was rumored to have access to all sorts of forbidden knowledge. He would have a rougher time than her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You too, Alicia. You too."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Several hours later</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Night had fallen in the forest, and between the gaps in the trees, the light of the moon and stars shone down. After Nick left to catch his flight, Alicia had spent the day hunting deer and boar. The mundane local authorities banned hunting in the area, but she made sure to leave no trace of her activity, and she doubted anyone would miss a few wild animals. Although the prey in her line of work was mages, she could hardly go out and hunt them for practice, so instead she refined her technique on wild game in forests such as this. She enjoyed being in the wilderness. Long ago, back before the mass keeping of livestock, people would go and out hunt like this to find food for their kin, or simply for sport. In their legends, the knights of Fianna had been depicted going on such hunts. In fact, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne had died on one of these. She thought it an appropriate spot to summon him back into the world. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looked at the ritual site she had prepared. She had traced a circle in a patch of soil, and a star within the circle, before using her magic to grow a number of flowers around the rim of the circle, although their petals had yet to open. Finally, she had placed her catalyst in the center of the circle, being careful not to disturb the soil any further. It was a scrap of green cloth that had once been part of a tunic the knight had worn. She had managed to obtain it from a friend of her grandfather in Ireland. It was fortunate that she had; the Renworths did not care for history, only the cultivation of the techniques they were famous for, so they didn't have many catalysts of their own, unlike the other major families. The few catalysts for powerful heroes that they did have in the past were lost by previous Renworth masters, so now they had nothing of any value. But she had managed to get her hands on just the catalyst she needed to summon a powerful servant. Even better, a powerful saber. Sabers were the best frontline fighters, with their high magic resistance and mastery of close combat, and a strong frontline fighter was the best partner for someone like her, who specialized in assassination. She felt a strong sense of pride. She had been chosen by the holy grail to fight for the honor of her family, and she did not intend to disappoint. She shook her head. Enough delaying. It was time to begin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She began walking around the outside of the circle, holding out her hand and making the petals of the flowers open up as she passed them. Each one produced a cloud of glowing yellow magical light that hung in the air around the circle like will'o-the-wisps. Finally, she began to chant the same incantation that, unbeknownst to her, her former classmate had chanted only an hour ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As she finished the incantation, she stepped back from the circle, and watched expectantly. The glowing yellow clouds converged on the center of the circle, blending together to form an opaque mist. The mist seemed to pulse before her eyes, shifting from yellow to white, and then back to yellow again as it did so. And then the mist dispersed, revealing a figure standing in the circle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She gasped as the mist finished dissipating, and the man stood revealed before her. He was breathtakingly handsome, with a well toned, muscular physique, slightly messy dark hair and a face with the beauty of an angel. His eyes twinkled with a joyful, somewhat playful spark, and a perfectly shaped beauty spot rested underneath his right eye.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>The beauty spot....</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She remembered the magic charm placed on him, and focused her mental defenses. She felt the enchantment briefly struggle against her resistance, before retreating from her mind. The man was handsome, it was true, but not supernaturally so. Not in any way that would influence her view of him. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her brother had been worrying for nothing. Such a simple charm was no match for her. But now that she was free from it, her attention strayed away from his beauty, and she noticed something disappointing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The weapons the figure had strapped to his back were spears, not swords. He wasn't a saber. He was a lancer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had somewhat expected this. Although not all of the strongest servants were sabers, saber was the strongest of the seven servant classes, so she had known that she wouldn't be the only one who would attempt to summon the saber in this war. And it would seem that another master had indeed got there before her. But, she decided, it didn't matter. He may not have been a saber, but he was still the greatest of the knights of Fianna. He would suit the role she needed him to play just fine. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Walking up to him, she said "Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, it is my pleasure to welcome you to the modern day. I am your master, Alicia Renworth."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The knight gave her a slightly bemused look. "I see. A woman chose to summon me even knowing of my curse? A bold move. But if your aim was to make a good first impression, you succeeded. The fact that you are able to resist the effects of the curse proves your strength." He knelt before her, clasping one arm to his chest in a traditional knight's salute. "Servant lancer, at your service, master."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alicia felt a strong sense of triumph. She had a loyal knight, famed for his martial prowess and in possession of powerful magic weapons, as her servant. All the groundwork was set. Soon, her hunt could begin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Good. Let us leave this forest. We have much to do while we wait for the battle to begin."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. As always, please leave any feedback in the comments, I really appreciate it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. caster?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Oswald twins decide it is time for them to summon their servant. However, their plans for the summoning ritual, and the spirit they intend to summon, are far from what anyone could suspect.....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>...... Although I'm sure that you guys already have a pretty good idea of who it might be. I'm sorry for the huge delay in the release of this chapter, I've had a very busy couple of weeks, but chapter 5 is finally here. Hope you enjoy, feel free to leave any feedback in the comments as always, it will be appreciated.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>The Oswald estate, London</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>1 day after the summoning of saber and lancer</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>James Oswald knelt in the center of the huge ritual chamber, within a black circle drawn on the floor, various sigils of arcane power cluttered around his still form. His eyes were shut tight and his face tight with concentration, as though he was deep in prayer, although who he might be praying to and why was unreadable. His shirt was removed, revealing even more iconography painted all over his torso and arms like tattoos, although these tattoos pulsed with unknown energy, and writhed as though they were alive. His eyes snapped open as his brother walked in, and although he did not rise from his position on the floor, he did turn to face him. "Is everything ready?" He asked Karius.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Karius, in return, pursed his lips, and an uncharacteristic expression flickered across his face: concern. "Yes. The ritual preparations are complete. If we wish to secure the caster vessel in this war, it would be best to attempt the summons tonight. It is not an issue if we don't secure it; any servant class is well suited for the enlightened one's spirit. But caster is the ideal choice." He hesitated, and then asked softly, "Are you sure you want to do this?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>James, internally, was taken aback. Normally the twins could always predict each other's behavior down to each individual word they might speak, but this was completely unexpected. "Of course. This is bigger than us, Karius. What we do is for the benefit of all humanity." He smiled; the movement felt strange on his lips, as he didn't practice the expression very often. After all, why should people feel the need to announce to everyone else how they felt all the time? But in this case, he could see the reassurance that a smile could bring his twin. "Besides, it's not like I'll be gone forever. As soon as we bring the enlightened one through to our world, my body will be released from his service."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Karius glanced at the floor, his emotionless mask crumbling for a brief second. "I know, I- I just feel... strange about all of this." Unused to the complexities of emotion, he struggled to find the words he was looking for. "First we lost father. Then we lost mother. Most recently, we lost Thomas too. The thought of losing you as well- I-I..."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Don't worry Karius. You're not going to lose me. I promise." Not even Thomas had ever seen the way the twins behaved with each other in private. Although they had been born at the same time, sometimes James felt like the older brother, when he had to reassure Karius like this. It hadn't always been this way. Previously, the two of them had never felt the burden of emotion that so many people struggled with. That all changed when their father died. Or rather, when they had killed him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>At least, they felt like they had killed him. Their father had always taught them that a mage must be utterly ruthless in order to survive and prosper in the world, not letting any emotional weakness stand in their way. When he had fallen ill with lung cancer, the twins had seen it as one of the golden opportunities that he had always been going on about. It was the perfect chance to seize power and status for themselves, something they had always been encouraged to do. They had convinced their father that if they had the Oswald crest, they could heal him with it's power. After he had split it between them, they had left him to die. Based on what their father had taught them, this was going to be a triumphant moment in their lives. But it didn't feel that way. James simply felt empty and hollow. Karius had been as close to distraught as James had ever seen him, seemingly plagued by the guilt of their actions. When their mother found out about what had happened, she immediately took off, calling them monsters. Karius had actually shed a tear at that. The only other time James had seen him do this was after Thomas betrayed them too. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The twins had stopped being entirely emotionless after that point. Instead they were constantly trapped in a sort of mild depression, which sometimes became more severe for Karius. They had vowed that they would never do anything else so callous and cruel for their own personal gain. Instead, they would try and find something good that they could do for all of mankind, and dedicate themselves to it. Then they had met Nyarlathotep, and suddenly they knew with utter certainty that this was the cause they had been searching for.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>James guessed that Karius had been thinking the same thing as him. After a few moments of silence, he straightened up, the cold, neutral mask once again spreading across his features. "Very well. We have no more time to waste. Let's begin the ritual."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>James nodded and shut his eyes once more, clasping his hands together in front of him. He heard the sound of footsteps as Karius began circling him, followed by chanting. The words of the incantation were utterly alien, with no translation available in any mortal language save for one phrase: "Oh great Nyarlathotep, please accept this mortal's body as your own. "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then James felt strange sensations playing across every nerve in his body. Whispers in the alien language, barely coherent fragments of knowledge, filled his ears. It was happening. He was becoming the enlightened one's vessel in this world. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pseudo-servants. The term was not known to most mages, gradually degrading in use following the age of gods, until it only appeared in ancient tomes and grimoires. The concept was simple. As divine spirits were too powerful to be summoned as servants on their own, mages would bind them to mortal hosts in order to weaken their divinity, making them summonable. The ritual itself, however, was incredibly complex, and made even more so due to the unique nature of Nyarlathotep. As he was a being from another reality that was far isolated from their own, breaking the bonds between worlds to allow even a sliver of his spirit through was had work. James couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to actually allow his true divine form through, although the holy gr-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Suddenly, the temperature in the circle dropped dramatically. The sensations he was experiencing became excruciatingly painful, the whispers malevolent and sadistic. Something was wrong. He opened his eyes, but the room no longer appeared before them. Instead, he stared into open space, streaks of purple, green and colors he'd never seen before streaking throughout it. A huge form rose up before him. He gazed at it with undisguised horror. A sharp clarity seemed to settle over his mind in this moment. He suddenly instinctively knew that they had been tricked. Thomas had not betrayed them. He had attempted to save them. But the manipulations of this monster had stopped that from happening. In fact, all along they had been mere pawns on it's chessboard, helpless before the sheer scale of cosmic power they had welcomed into their minds with open arms. He had to warn Karius. He had to stop him from making a mistake he would never come back from. That humanity would never come back from.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But then the clarity revealed something else to him, something that made him feel sick with dread. He was not breaking free of that thing's control in this moment. It had relaxed it's hold on him willingly. It was taunting him, allowing him to realize the full gravity of his mistake before his soul was sucked away into the darkness. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Screaming, the essence of James Oswald was torn away into the unknowable reaches of the realm beyond. Howling with glee, that of Nyarlathotep plunged towards his helpless body on Earth. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Karius stared with fascination as James shuddered and began to change before his eyes. The sigils of power drawn across his upper body disappeared, seeming to sink into his skin. That skin then rippled, and it's color began to darken, shifting from pale to a deep tan. His hair also began to shift, a chalky wave spreading up from the roots and blanketing it's natural darkness in snowy white. Karius recognized both of these phenomenon as the magic circuits in James' body being pushed past their natural limits, working like they had never worked before to accommodate the surge of eldritch energy gradually spreading within him. Finally, James spasmed once more, then became utterly still. When his eyes opened, they were no longer a natural green. Instead they glowed a sickly yellow. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The figure that was no longer James Oswald stood slowly, stretching and surveying the room. His eyes passed straight over Karius as though he wasn't there, and he began muttering to himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So, this is the modern era of the mortal world, is it? It has been so long since I last came here in person. Ah, the memories."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Karius blinked with confusion, then bowed slightly towards the eccentric being. "Nyarlathotep, it is my humble pleasure to welcome you to our world."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nyarlathotep completely ignored him, instead continuing to mutter softly. "Let's take a look around then, see who the competition is." His eyes seemed to focus on something that only he could see, and then he smiled. Like the twins, the smile completely lacked warmth, but unlike the twins, it seemed perfectly natural on his face. "Those two, eh? A pair of knights from the days of honor and chivalry. A fitting welcome for me. It should be fun to face them, particularly the dog of King Arthur. They will prove good sport. It is unfortunate that their weaknesses are so painfully obvious, though. When I eventually need to get rid of them, it will prove far too simple; I do like a good challenge, and these two won't provide it. Hopefully some of the other servants will prove more entertaining, when they are called upon by their masters. Oh, it's going to be so much fun!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A chill passed down Karius' spine. These were not the words of a benevolent sage. They were more suited to a tyrant or a serial killer. "Nyarlathotep? What are you talking about?" He demanded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, the being's gaze settled on him. It's attention alone was unsettling. "Ah, of course, my <em>master.</em>" The word dripped with sarcasm so spiteful that Karius took a step back. "I just said all of that out loud, didn't I? I do apologize. Having a mortal form is a completely new experience for me; it will take some getting used to before I can use it properly. Please, take no heed of what I just said. In fact," His eyes narrowed, and his grin grew wider. "Why don't you just <strong>forget all about it</strong>?" He waved his hand at Karius as he said these last words, each syllable radiating power. The man's eyes briefly glazed over, before refocusing on Nyarlathotep as though seeing him for the first time. The being's entire manner completely changed, taking on a much more gentle and kind demeanor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Karius bowed slightly. "Nyarlathotep, it is my humble pleasure to welcome you to our world."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nyarlathotep smiled again, this one the very image of benevolence. "No, it is my pleasure to meet you in person at last, Karius Oswald. My worthy seeker, you have suffered much. Humanity has suffered much. But rejoice now. For I have come to bring a new era of knowledge and peace to you all. Long have I waited for this opportunity, and now you and your brother have come to grant it to me. For that, I cannot thank you enough."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It pleases me to hear you say that, but I am the one who should be grateful. My brother, too."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The tiniest flicker of sadistic delight caught the edges of his smile at those last words, but then it was gone again, like the last ray of light before sunset. "Your gratitude is much appreciated. Now then, shall we find somewhere more comfortable? We have much to discuss."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Berserker</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Although Britain is the center of magecraft in the world, the holy grail can choose any worthy mage as one of it's seekers, no matter where they come from or where they might be. And when Lorenzo Flavius, heir to the most powerful mage family in Italy, is chosen as a master, he travels overseas to join in the battle, determined to restore the glory of his ancestors.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>The coliseum, Pompeii, Italy</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>1 day after the summoning of caster</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Lorenzo Flavius gazed out over the city of Pompeii from his position on top of the coliseum's stands and sighed heavily. It looked so peaceful out there, the soft blanket of the night comfortably enveloping the modern buildings, the shining stars and the pale moon blanketing everything in brilliant, yet gentle light, quite unlike the overwhelming brightness of the sun's rays. As idyllic as it was out there, it was hard to imagine the disaster that occurred many centuries ago. But one only had to turn to the jagged, menacing peak of mount Vesuvius, or witness the agonized forms of those preserved by the ash, set up in museums as though their suffering were a novelty, to be reminded. Here, the mighty city of Pompeii, a jewel of the empire, had been brought low, not by it's enemies, but by the power of nature. However, the destruction of Pompeii had not affected the vast civilization it had been a part of in the slightest. Rome had continued to prosper. No, it had not been nature, or even it's enemies, who had destroyed Rome. It had been the weakness of it's last leaders, a weakness that they had spread throughout the empire like some vile pestilence. Rome was but a memory now, it's glory only preserved in textbooks and monuments. Most of the people from Italy and other lands conquered by Rome didn't even consider themselves to be descendants of this glorious empire. But the Flavius family did. They remembered their heritage, they remembered the former glory of their people. And they would stop at nothing to regain it. He would stop at nothing to regain it.</p><p> </p><p>The Flavius family was, contrary to popular belief, the oldest mage family in the world. Britain perpetuated the lie that the Flannagans were older, and as they were the most powerful mage family of the modern day, most mages accepted this as the truth. In fact, Italy was now the only country containing families who knew which of the two had really come first. The Flavius family had existed since the days of the empire, while the Flannagans first appeared just before the Norman conquest of England, shortly after the end of King Arthur's reign, or, to the mundane world, the time King Arthur had supposedly lived during. There were centuries between them, and yet somehow people still didn't accept the truth! The ignorance of humanity was truly staggering. But despite the falsehoods presented by Britain, the Flavius family had managed to retain their power in Italy. Lorenzo's father, the current family head, was satisfied with this alone. But he was not. He wanted to restore his family's rightful place in this world, and crush all those who dared to try and hold them down. And now, Lorenzo thought with satisfaction, he had the means to do that. He gazed down at the symbol that had appeared on the back of his right hand a few days ago, a stylized red flame cut into three distinct sections. A fire symbol for a fire mage? Perhaps a little too on the nose. He wondered vaguely if the grail was sentient, and if this was it attempting to make a joke. But it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that he had been chosen to fight for the grail, and that artifact had the power to realize his ambitions. It was not an opportunity he intended to waste. </p><p> </p><p>Turning from his view of the city, he stalked to the edge of the stone slab he stood on, gazing down into the coliseum far below. He had made sure to clear the place out with a mass hypnosis spell for the night, so he was alone here. A place where a city of the empire had been utterly annihilated. He thought it a fitting location to begin his war to restore the glory of bygone days. Holding out his hand, he conjured a roaring pillar of flame that reached from the ground all the way up to where he stood. He strode out on to it; the fire held firm beneath his feet. Snapping his fingers, he caused the column to gradually shrink, lowering him to the ground before it dissipated entirely. A smile passed across his face; his father had always said he had a flair for the dramatic. It seemed that held true even when there was no one there to witness it.</p><p> </p><p>In the center of the arena floor, where gladiators used to bask in the glory of the cheering crowd, he had drawn his summoning circle. There in the center lay an imperial banner, a relic his family had retained since the days of Rome. It was a tattered square of crimson, held together by preservation magic, with gold embroidery depicting an eagle and a Latin number which indicated the legion it had belonged to. This particular legion had served during the days of Rome's third emperor, a once noble man who had at some point fallen into madness, known throughout history as a bloodthirsty tyrant. But a tyrant, while an unsavory character, would make the perfect servant. It did not matter whether the emperor himself had been a strong warrior or possessed any supernatural capabilities. The strength of a heroic (or perhaps villainous) spirit was as much determined by whatever deeds they were remembered for as by their actual strength in life. If an emperor was remembered for inflicting suffering, then that is what they would be able to do as a servant. If they were remembered for being unyielding, then that is what they will be as a servant. If they were feared by thousands, then they would be similarly fearsome as a servant. Glory, not might, was what provided power in this world. Yet another fitting aspect of his plan to win this grail war. </p><p> </p><p>Making a sweeping gesture with his hand, he conjured a column of flame on each of the five points of the star within the summoning circle, much like the one he had created earlier, but smaller. Pacing around the circle, he began to chant:</p><p> </p><p>"Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Let each be turned over five times, simply breaking asunder the fulfilled time. Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let my great master be the ancestor. Raise a wall, against the wind that shall fall. Close the four cardinal gates. Come out from the crown. Rotate the three branched road reaching the kingdom. I shall declare here. Your body shall serve under me. My fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the holy grail. If you will submit to this will and this reason... then answer! An oath shall be sworn here! I shall attain all virtues of all of heaven. I shall have dominion over all evils of all of hell!" </p><p> </p><p>Here he broke from the usual chant, and added a new phrase, one that would enhance the power of his servant at the price of their sanity. After all, if everything he had heard about this emperor was true, he didn't have any sanity left to lose, so he may as well take advantage of that fact. Yes, berserker was clearly the most fitting class for this particular emperor. And so he continued his chant:</p><p> </p><p>"Yet you shall serve with your eyes clouded by chaos. For you are one caged in madness, and I shall wield your chains. From the seventh heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the balance!"</p><p> </p><p>The flames spread and multiplied, rapidly growing into one mighty bonfire barely contained by the circle. It hissed and spat like the caged madman the incantation referenced, it's fury palpable even from a distance. He shielded his face from the scorching heat and overwhelming light. And then, when that heat and light was replaced by cold and darkness, he gazed at the being he had summoned. </p><p> </p><p>The man that stood in the circle looked human enough at a first glance. He had messy dark purple hair and a muscular physique, his pale skin covered in places by coarse hair, with the exception of his clean shaven face. He wore armor of midnight black and gold that once must have shone even in the moonlight, but now seemed dull, along with an imperial cape in the same crimson red as the banner that had been used to summon him. A gladius, a Roman short sword, hung on his belt in a leather sheath. However, upon closer inspection, the insanity of this figure almost seemed to distort him, making him seem less like a human and more like a wild beast. Dry blood clung to his amour, so old that it had almost become one with it. His stance radiated barely contained aggression, his legs tensed in preparation to charge, his fingers flexing as though preparing to tear out Lorenzo's throat. His face was formed into a savage snarl, his lips curled back to expose his teeth, a perfect imitation of a lion ready to maul it's prey. But worst of all were his eyes. the sclera and irises were coal black, the pupils blood red, and within them one could see madness and hatred so strong it even threatened to consume those who saw them. Lorenzo reeled under the effect. </p><p> </p><p>The man simply stood there, however, and muttered to himself in a dialect of Latin that Lorenzo couldn't make any sense of, although he could recognize the language being spoken. There was only one word that he understood. </p><p> </p><p>"Roma..."</p><p> </p><p>The heir to the Flavius family swallowed down his fear and took a shaky breath. Stepping forward, he raised his hands, palms open and facing the figure. "Ca-" he bit his tongue instantly, cursing himself. He had nearly used the emperor's nickname, a nickname that the man had reportedly hated.</p><p> </p><p>Caligula. The twisted, sadistic tyrant whose rule had been characterized by insanity and murder, a stark contrast to his reported early benevolence. His reign of terror and blood had been cut off prematurely by assassination, not by any means the first attempt on his life, merely the first that succeeded. Funnily enough, The word Caligula meant "little boots" in Latin, a nickname given to him as a child because of the miniature soldier's clothing he wore when accompanying his father, a famous Roman general, on military campaigns. A rather endearing term for such a vicious man to be remembered by. His real name was, of course....</p><p> </p><p>"Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus." Was that a hint of recognition he saw on the emperor's features? "It is my pleasure to welcome you to the modern world, although that pleasure comes with great sadness."</p><p> </p><p>"Roma...." A question, or a statement? He decided to interpret it as the former. "Great emperor, I am filled with grief at the news I must deliver to you. I regret to say that Rome has fallen. Centuries ago, it was destroyed by-"</p><p> </p><p>With blinding speed, Caligula shot forward, grasping Lorenzo by the throat and effortlessly lifting him off his feet. He kicked and struggled, gasping as his airway was cut off. "Roma..." the emperor growled. </p><p> </p><p>"I-wai-plea-" Lorenzo couldn't get his words out, his lungs straining as they were. "Ro-Ro-Rome ha-"</p><p> </p><p>Upon hearing him repeat the empire's name, Caligula loosened his iron grip just enough to let the hapless mage breathe. As he gasped and spluttered, the emperor said a single word, this time, much to Lorenzo's surprise, in heavily accented Italian: "speak."</p><p> </p><p>Gasping and spluttering, Lorenzo hurried to do just that, before the emperor decided to choke him again, or maybe even snap his neck and be done with it. "Rome has fallen, my emperor. Centuries ago, it collapsed due to weak leaders and infighting. Today, our country is but a pale shadow of it's former glory. Most people don-"</p><p> </p><p>He cried out in surprise as the emperor suddenly dropped him, sending him sprawling to the coliseum floor. He scrambled to his feet, clutching at his throat, as Caligula sank to his knees, his expression changing from anger to grief. "Roma..." He whispered softly. A single, blood red tear traced it's way down his cheek. </p><p> </p><p>Cautiously, Lorenzo approached the mourning figure. "I am sorry, my emperor," he said gently. "It must be truly terrible to return and hear of this news. But hope is not lost. Remember the call of the grail that summoned you. It is an artifact of immense power, one that can restore the glory of Rome. But we must fight for it first. We must fight for Rome's return, or it will be lost forever. Will you help me in this trial, emperor? Will you fight for the return of the Rome that you loved so dearly?" He had a strange way of showing his love for it, Lorenzo thought, but naturally, he kept that thought to himself. He and the emperor both wanted the same thing. He could look past the brutality of the man if it meant seeing that goal fulfilled. </p><p> </p><p>Upon his hearing his words, Caligula rose to his feet, staring directly at Lorenzo. "Roma?" Definitely a question this time.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes. Rome can return. But it will need your help to do so."</p><p> </p><p>Caligula's expression returned to one of rage, and he slowly approached Lorenzo. He swallowed hard. Had he said something wrong? The emperor reached towards him with one arm. He flinched.... </p><p> </p><p>But the arm did not reach for his throat. Instead, it firmly grasped his shoulder. Not a display of aggression, but one of solidarity. "Roma!" Caligula said firmly. Lorenzo decided to take that as a yes.</p><p> </p><p>He smiled shakily. "Excellent. Thank you, my emperor. Now then, let us leave this place, for our homeland is not where this war shall be fought. It is to take place in another nation, one that you fought long ago......."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, any feedback is much appreciated. I'm not sure if I'll upload another chapter before Christmas, but just in case I don't, Merry Christmas to you all! except you fate grand order, story locking a Christmas event is unforgivable.</p>
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